This, Our Shaky Claim
by PsychoDirector
Summary: In possibly the only Shaky Claim fic on here, a series of letters depicts the fall of an old-time boom town, from rapturous paradise to a prison, for those who can stay alive and sane long enough. This is Jack's story.
1. Chapter 1

**_S_****_ummary: A cowboy named Jack sends a series of letters to his fiance, who he was forced to leave behind in Pennsylvenia until he could make enough money to afford a train ticket for her (as you can't expect a lady to traverse miles of untamed, Indian wildland now, can you?). The group he's in eventually take root in a fertile dip of land they call Shaky Claim. Jack chronologues their lives within the town, as the little area quickly becomes less of a mysterious paradise, and more of a prison for those who can manage to stay sane..._**

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_Dear Laura,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I know I haven't written in a while. I just haven't had time, or the paper, for that matter. Things were rough for a while, but I'm starting to think they're going to work out. They always do—as you've shown me as much as I have you—but not always towards a happy ending. More often than not, things go way downhill, and before you know it, you're back in the saddle, without so much as a teepee in sight._

_I think this is going to be our happy ending, though._

_We're going to build a town here, Laura, old girl. It's a lovely little couple of acres of solid prairie—I'd give my left arm for a chance for you to see it. I'd draw it, but Rich is right—I can't draw for sticks. Rest assured, though, it's the most beautiful bit of land you'll ever see, and next chance I get, I'll grab the next train and bring you here. The air feels… different, you know? I'm not sure if it's right or not, but I trust in the Lord, and I know things will work out. They always do._

_Love, _

_Jack_

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_**Yeah, I know, it's short. Some of the chapters will be, sorry. However, the whole thing will be reasonable in size, though not nearly the length of some of my other fanfics, by the time all's said and done. Writing something this shrimpy feels weird, but I've seen shorter. So... TO BE CONTINUED...**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Letter number two.**_

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_Dear Laura,_

_Everything's going strong and well. I think this feeling I have is a good one, after all. Sure, most of the buildings are still just wood skeletons, but it'll be something to see soon enough. I just pray to God it doesn't end up a ghost town. This place is too beautiful to let go to waste. There's something so mysterious about it; it just fills you with energy and really sets your mind to work. It makes it hard to sleep sometimes, I'll admit, but I've always had a love-hate relationship with sleep as it is. _

_The buffalo are plentiful around this area, usually up on Roundabout Ridge. They're juicer than the ones back at Chesapeake, and sweet as fiddleheads. A bit of a difficulty to catch at times, but there are so many it doesn't hinder Rich, Wesker, and me when we go out to hunt them. Still, they're as off as this town at times, I swear. I'm going concerned about what they've been eating—it seems to me that something in the meat, maybe, is causing the occasional hallucination. Don't look so worried, Laura, it's nothing we can't handle. Wesker's seen them, too. Every once in a while, when I'm staring down a buffalo and he's staring down me, I swear… stuff moves. The rocks and anything that's not grounded around the buffalo look like they're floating around the air. I thought it was just my imagination, but then Wesker asked me about them. I sorry to tell you this, but I was scared. I told him "how should I know!?" and changed the subject. I feel like a dirty coward._

_Maybe it's something in the air…? That's possible, because it seems to be affecting the buffalo, too, and they're not eating each other. For all the ones we've seen chewing the cud around the town, there's been at least two carca… that have died. That's far too much for just some predators; even a disease probably wouldn't have knocked off that many. I guess all I can do for now is switch to venison._

_I hope it isn't a disease. There's a bunch of little ones and women here who are tired from the travel. I don't think I have the heart to send them off from such a beautiful place to keep searching for our claim. That, and I want you to see this town, but not if it means you have to become sick. I love you so much more than this town._

_Love,_

_Jack_


End file.
